


My dear Doctor, I persume?

by AutumnleafAuthor



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode: s05e16 Doctor Bashir I Presume, Gen, Genetic Enhancements, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Angst, Pre-Slash, and those scenes all include garak, but Ive made some more scenes for it, but he also has sentiment for julian, due to episode, garak is a snarky boi, richard bashir's a+ parenting is alluded to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:27:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnleafAuthor/pseuds/AutumnleafAuthor
Summary: So I was scrolling through Xenobotanist’s tumblr and came across a post talking about how Garak should’ve been in 05x16 “Doctor Bashir, I presume?” and I decided to write three little scenes that would’ve made a fine addition if Rick Berman wasn’t such a coward-Just as a side note, I assume Julian had at least a week or two after returning from the Gamma Quadrant before all this started, and I believe it also takes multiple weeks to get to DS9 from Earth, so I usually assume the reveal of his enhancements happens around a month after “By Inferno’s Light”
Relationships: Julian Bashir & Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 6
Kudos: 65





	1. The Interview

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Xenobotanist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenobotanist/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak is one of Bashir's oldest friends on the station and I'm still pissed they included Morn in the interview sequence, but not him.

If one had ordered him to give a strategic assessment of the human before him, Garak likely would’ve expressed how he could hold Doctor Zimmerman at disruptor point and the scientist’s reaction would be to complain and talk about how he would inform Starfleet Command about this. The man seemed to eye him not with mistrust, but true distain, and Garak decided that this likely wasn’t simple xenophobia, which was, after all, not all that surprising, but also an apparent general distaste for people. The Doctor carried an air of superiority about him that seemed absolutely unfounded at second glance. Still, he wasn’t here to find the most effective way to disable the man, even though coming up with tactics like that would be a by far more agreeable pastime – no, he was here to talk about _his_ Doctor, and the least he could do for dear Julian Bashir was try to be agreeable. That, at least, was one thing that customer service gave him plenty of experience with.

“Now, Mister...Garak, I’ve heard you and Doctor Bashir have been friends basically since he arrived on the station?”

“Yes, I suppose one could say that.” No reason to lie about what the man already knew, but trying to explain just how inaccurate the term ‘friend’ was here would likely go beyond the half hour he was told to clear for this.

“What was your initial impression of him?”

My, what a predictable question.

“Ah, at first, his excitement for all the novelties around him was only ever dimmed by his sense of professionalism. As soon as he knew what he was supposed to be doing, he was truly efficient, and still is, of course.” Now, should he try and bolster the dear Doctor’s résumé a bit? After all, he was certain everyone else’s first impressions would rather focus on the part about excitement.

“I’ve heard from others that he could sometimes be rather difficult.”

Ah. There it was.

“Well, I do believe this was his first time away from Earth – there was much he still had to learn.”

“Could you elaborate on that?”

He barely swallowed a ‘If I must’.

“When I first made his lovely acquaintance, I believed him to be rather naïve and quite a bit idealistic – not like that has changed all that much – but I do believe he’s grown to employ a good bit more critical thinking, especially considering the kinds of situations we often find ourselves in out here.”

Ah, now he was getting somewhere: the man was checking his notes again, no doubt comparing his account with the other interviewees before himself. Briefly, Garak wondered if boasting about being the Doctor’s first continuous friendly acquaintance would be just a bit too sentimental.

“Others described Doctor Bashir as persistent – even annoying – would you agree with that assessment?”

“Well, that entirely depends on one’s interpretation of certain actions, wouldn’t you say? For instance, the good Doctor tended to be very persistent in insisting I was some sort of…spy, for the Central Command, but I found the different roundabout ways he would try to …needle about my past rather quite amusing, especially seeing as we both knew those questions to be very much futile.”

“You mean he was harassing you about your past?”

It took all Garak had not to sigh. Truly, either this man was as much an interrogator as his own Doctor would ever be a tailor, or he was purposefully trying to paint a negative image of Doctor Bashir.

“Oh, never unwantedly so, believe me.” At least, the topic of his exile was not his topic of choice when it came to Doctor Zimmerman, thus, he best deflect. “I must admit, I rather invited all kinds of rumours about my alleged ‘past’ when this station changed owners, as much for my own amusement as was the natural character of being the only Cardassian on a Bajoran space station. No, the good Doctor’s questions were never of a negative nature, much in contrast to many other people pestering me about the subject.”

“But he was persistent?”

“Oh, certainly!” Was there nothing this man wouldn’t take as some kind of insult towards Doctor Bashir? Perhaps it was time for a little obfuscation. That was, after all, his specialty. “Though I rather invited it with my own behaviour. After all, I was just as persistent in getting to know him!”

He made a show of looking around, as if that would ever deter any truly determined watchful eyes, before continuing, his second tongue all but screaming _secrecy_.

“To be perfectly honest, I had hoped he would make a good contact for any…delicate business I came across. You see, with things being how they are, if I ever had any trouble, or useful information, for that matter, I would need to have someone willing to listen, and not simply pass my thoughts off as some… ‘Cardassian ploy’, I suppose. So, I’m afraid I was rather relentless in cultivating any kind of relationship with the young man, and that ended up being best observed in regular shared lunches!”

Not that any other long-term inhabitant of the station would have needed to be told this, as it was often proven just how useful his contact with Doctor Bashir could be, but perhaps this would be enough to deter the man from slandering his Doctor’s bad name.

“So what exactly is your relationship with Doctor Bashir?”

He allowed himself a good beat of disappointment at himself for being so careless in his choice of words before going for the simplest way out.

“Why, you said it yourself – I’d consider us very much friends!”

He observed Doctor Zimmerman letting out a heavy breath that wasn’t quite a sigh. At least that seemed to have been a success.

“Thank you for your time.”

“Truly, it was no trouble! And any time you feel the need to try for something a little more…expressive than that uniform of yours, feel free to stop by my humble establishment!”

He sincerely hoped that Doctor Zimmerman would in fact stay as far away from his shop as was possible in such a rather small space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering - the second tongue thingie is mostly body language from what I gather, and I assume I picked it up from tinsnip?


	2. The Hallway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place after Julian has just abruptly left the dinner with his parents

It must’ve been around 2100 hours, station time, when he finally decided that any work done today would have to be remade tomorrow morning anyways and his time would be better spent enjoying a good dinner in his quarters, where his fingers could regain their movement from their now half-frozen state. In a similar vein, he’d decided to walk out onto the habitat ring and then take a turbolift to level H in order to stretch his legs. What Garak had not anticipated however, was coming across a rather Julian Bashir-shaped heap on the cold hallway’s floor.

“Should I call for one of your nurses, Doctor, or are you quite alright down there?”

The non-committal answering “hm?” told him all he needed to know – physically, the Doctor was alright, mentally, he likely was not. His customer service smile stayed, for now.

“Oh, Garak….” Ah, acknowledgement. A step in the right direction, one might say, even if not an enthusiastic one, but at least he wasn’t being sent away. He decided a short trip to the floor couldn’t hurt, and perhaps then the good Doctor might share why he had found himself there in the first place. Thus, Garak lowered himself onto the cold ground beside Doctor Bashir and joined the young man in staring at the opposite wall.

“Doctor Zimmerman decided to invite my parents to his little project.” That barely took a moment, and already painted a rather clear picture.

“I take it your family could almost rival my own?” Likely an overstatement, but a calculated one. Doctor Bashir let out a dry laugh, it had paid off.

“You could say that.”

“Hm. But why, pray tell, has that moved you to taking up residence in this hallway?”

“Oh, I just… I needed to get out of the room, I guess. I could go back to my quarters, of course, but…”

“Of course.” He could not quite relate, but understood the general feeling of…. Perhaps, overwhelmedness?

“I know it probably goes against the Cardassian importance of family, but I just really wish they hadn’t come. It just makes it all so…complicated.”

That he certainly could understand.

“Perhaps you would like to join me for a nice, uncomplicated cup of tea? I take it from that delectable scent that you’ve already eaten, but if you wouldn’t mind watching me eat…”

“Since when is anything uncomplicated with you, Garak?” Bashir punctuated this with a dry laugh. He did certainly have a point there. “But I suppose even an Enigma tale would be more straightforward right now…”

He watched the Doctor struggle to his feet and wondered, not for the first time, how exactly Doctor Bashir managed to keep his limbs untangled as he joined him standing.

“Well, I can certainly acquire another one if that would make you feel better, my dear Doctor. But even like this, I’d say the two of us have read enough literature for discussions to last us a lifetime. And, if I may be a bit sentimental, an evening spent in company is better than a lonely one.”

And really, who was around to witness if he allowed himself a bit of a sentimental smile at seeing his dear Doctor relax his shoulders just a fraction and quirk the corner of his mouth just a few inches upward.

“Then by all means, lead the way.”


	3. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after the end of the episode

He’d given his Doctor, and himself, for that matter, two weeks to themselves. For him, this was to process his initial reaction to hearing the news – on the one hand, irritation, with himself, mostly, for not recognizing what was going on right before his very eyes, or, more accurately, for seeing very well that something was off, but not bothering to investigate the matter further – on the other hand, a definite feeling of pride for his dear Doctor, that, despite his original assessment, Doctor Bashir was very much capable of keeping a secret. After all, it wouldn’t do to divulge any of this to his dearest lunch companion simply because these reactions were still too close to the surface. In the interim, he figured, the good Doctor would likely wish to have some time to himself to adjust to his environment changing around him, without Garak himself providing another shifting factor.

The Terran calendar proclaimed this weekday to be a Wednesday, and it had been fifteen workdays since he had shared a lovely late cup of tea with the Doctor in his quarters, when he decided he was in a mood for a good spot of lunch. With practised hands, Garak closed up his shop and initiated the locking sequence, finishing it with a quick touch to the panel out on the promenade before making his way to the infirmary. While that was certainly still not his favourite place to be on this station, he would likely find the good Doctor there, seeing as it was a whole five minutes before he usually went to eat. He idly toyed with the isolinear rod in his pocket as he entered the room – if Doctor Bashir truly expected him to come here with ill wishes, a quick way back to “business as usual”, as Humans tended to say, would likely provide both of them some comfort. He gave a quick nod to the nurse on duty, who let him through towards the larger workstation that was currently seeing the resident Chief Medical Officer typing away at it.

“Good Morning, Doctor! I was wondering if you’d care to join me for lunch?” A quick inviting smile, and a relaxed posture – he was certain Bashir had noticed his approach, and yet he had flinched when he had been addressed. Even now, he looked unsure. Something had to be said for being “paranoid”, as the good Doctor put it, or “prepared for everything”, as he himself preferred. He pulled the data rod free of it’s confines.

“I recently came across a Vulcan attempt at an Enigma Tale – likely inspired by Iloja of Prim’s residency, and even though I haven’t read too much yet myself, I’m certain we can determine its literary worth between the two of us?”

Bashir wasn’t relaxed, not by far, but he certainly appeared less defensive. Something to be said for being prepared indeed.

“I…I think I’d like that, Garak. Let me just-“ A few quick taps and beeps from the console, the padd he was holding put away, uniform straightened, Doctor Bashir turned to face him. “Replimat?”

“Certainly.”

He decided to let the silence hang between them on their way over, but it soon became clear that Bashir either thought he had nothing to say, or, more likely, simply didn’t know where to begin. So, Garak ordered his food and took a seat at an unoccupied table, quickly joined by the Doctor. He gave another few seconds before initiating conversation himself.

“So, Doctor, how goes that Human saying – a cent for your thoughts?”

At least that got him a small smile, and he was certainly not going to reveal that he knew the saying perfectly well.

“It’s a penny, Garak. That currency was almost obsolete before cents were even a thing.” A sip of tea, Tarkalean, if his sense of smell wasn’t betraying him. “I just… I wasn’t even sure you’d still want to have lunch, I guess?”

“Whyever not?” Perhaps he had waited too long after all. That wouldn’t be the first time he’d miscalculated when it came to the good Doctor…

“Well, it’s…I wasn’t sure if you’d still want to see me, knowing... _what_ I am.”

Now this was cause for some genuine confusion.

“What you are, Doctor? Why, I was under the impression that I’d already informed you that I enjoy your company even with your Federation dogma clouding our conversation!”

“You know exactly what I mean, Garak.” Ah, so this still appeared to be a rather sore spot. Of course, he couldn’t blame the young man: after all, he himself knew perfectly well how having a secret revealed could leave something of a sting. However, the question remained of what exactly Doctor Bashir viewed himself as.

“That doesn’t mean that anything that had happened has changed my perception at all. Though-“ he leaned conspiratorially across the table, in the same exaggerated manner that he used to employ whenever the Doctor had taken to accusing him of being a spy again- “it does make me wonder – have you been holding back on me? I sure hope that you never felt the need to subject me to your – forgive me – subpar interpretations in order to preserve a certain…image?”

A bit of a sly smile here, and what should constitute as a raised “eyebrow” – these Humans really do have hair everywhere, don’t they – ah, yes, a smile in return.

“Oh, believe me, Garak, I’m every bit as stupid with social cues and the like as I appear to be!” Garak pretended not to notice a Starfleet engineer sneer at the good Doctor behind his back as the young man chuckled slightly. “You’d think, with all the trouble they went through, … _changing_ me and all that…” – yes, definitely a sore subject, quite obviously so – “they’d have taken the time to make sure I can at least socially behave like a normal Human ought to!”

“Well, perhaps they took some inspiration from Vulcan DNA, if you don’t mind me saying so” – the good Doctor was uncertain about that, it seemed – “what, with apparently enhanced intelligence, but a certain…lack of social decorum that many others observe…”

“Maybe.”

“I was wondering – if I were to acquire a copy of the Never-Ending Sacrifice in the original Kardasi – “

“Oh, no, spare me of that!” Garak was quite glad to see that gamble had paid off, they were back onto more solid territory. That didn’t mean, however, that he would be so quick in giving up about the Doctor learning some Kardasi. After all, he most certainly could, couldn’t he? “I think reading it once, in whatever language, was quite enough for me.”

“Ah, but how would you know that you haven’t been missing out? Perhaps the true meaning of the work would unlock itself to you if it were read as it was meant to be read?”

The Doctor gave a light shake of his head, bowed as it was to capture some of his salad from his fork with his still grinning mouth.

“In my uninformed opinion, I’d say the odds of that are definitely below fifty percent.”

“You could calculate that, could you? It does make me wonder whether those scientists took a bit too close an advice from their resident computer in arranging you so…” he took a seemingly contemplative sip form his own cup and glanced away in that theatrical manner that so often seemed to amuse.

A tentative chuckle from his dear Doctor, not quite as it was usually, but Garak thought it was quite enough for today. And if he wondered at all whether dear Julian would’ve shared this secret of is own volition with him at some point, and he couldn’t quite decide if he’d rather have been granted this in return of his own recent show of trust, or he would’ve been prouder if the Doctor had been cautious enough not to trust him, that conversation could certainly wait for another day – if they ever needed to have it at all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone asks - I had written this before I saw the other recent upload of such a story XD


End file.
